The Sorting of Draco Malfoy
by skinnyrita
Summary: Stand alone fic centred on the remeniscences of one Draco Malfoy, and his experience under the sorting hat. Good. Nice and short. Read it. Flames accepted. Cheers.


Hello loyal fans (cough) once again I embark on one of my stand-alone fics, this one centred around Draco Malfoy. I always wondered –what if he was put in a different house? Did he have to go in Slytherin? Hmm. I mean, Harry had the chance to go in Slytherin, why not give old Draco a chance to choose?

Please review this fic even if you hate it, and give me some ideas for more stand-aloners. Also, feel free to review my long fic 'Flying the Nest', I should really finish that one and I'm collecting ideas for a good finale.

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Disclaimer: I do not own the sorting hat, or the Malfoys, the Potters, Hogwarts or in fact any part of the wizarding world. I do own an empty bank account: no profits being made here then.

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_The Sorting of Draco Malfoy._

_By skinnyrita, literary genius and retired factory skivvy._

'Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor, PLEASE anything but Gryffindor, my father would Crucio me, anything but that...'

"Not Gryffindor eh? You could be great you know, and Gryffindor would help you on your way to greatness, there's no doubt about that..."

'Not Gryffindor, PLEASE, pick Slytherin, pick Slytherin...'

"No? Well if you're _sure_... better be: SLYTHERIN!"

It had happened in a matter of seconds, and now I was sitting at the Slytherin table, trying to brim over with pride. Father's house, it couldn't have been better. Of course I would have settled for Ravenclaw –mother's house, but it was done now. It was done. And done for the best. Potter was approaching the stool. I was hoping he would get sorted into Slytherin with me, because that would have utterly destroyed that Weasley kid. I seriously wasn't liking him. Potter looked like he had potential. Why didn't he take my hand when I offered it? Well, too late now.

Potter sat down at the Gryffindor table, followed by the red-headed rag. I might have sat on that table. I wonder what it would've been like to be in Gryffindor, sometimes. I would never have got on with Weasley. I'll never doubt that. Father would have killed me. Snape wouldn't favour me –would that have meant I'd been a failure? Or something. Can't dwell too much on what you can't have. Like Weasley. He doesn't have any money. Or Longbottom. He's got no brains. (Or proper parents...) Oh well, too late now.

At the end of the first year, Potter got even more fame. If I was him, I would've kept that Stone. But no. I guess some bloody Gryffindor charitableness had been leaked into his pumpkin juice. If I had been in Gryffindor, I would have been the one with the fame. Not that twit. And his lackeys. But I have Crabbe and Goyle. They're good pets for taking care of dirty work. Father has a whole host of man who work under him. One day, I'll have that. I'm already getting started. It's funny, the way father's vendetta against Potter has turned rather personal. But with no other retort from that little golden boy than 'eat dung Malfoy', I may as well have won the war already. It would have been different, maybe, if I hadn't picked the Slytherin side. But it's too late now.

Second year. I hated second year. Parselmouth. I knew he was meant for Slytherin the moment I laid eyes on the skinny little kid. As soon as I saw him in Madam Malkin's, I knew. Merlin, what a lot of questions I got from the brainless-brothers that year 'Hey Draco...urr...so how come you don speak snake thing? Eh? Draco?' Jesus. Should our places have been exchanged? Ha, that would be a sight to see, Potter, Voldemort's number one opposer, king of the Slytherin common room. He wouldn't handle it. You need money and status to grab my kind of power, and as far as I can tell, Potter has neither. He might be able to come up with a few surprises (like that bloody Firebolt; it makes your blood boil...) but as far as he lets on he could be as poor as Weasley. Whereas if I had been sorted into Gryffindor, things would have turned out a lot different. Weasley licking my boots, Granger earning my marks. Pavarti – well, too late now.

Third year. What on earth? So Potter's in with a blood thirsty dark animal and an escaped convict, and we're all just going to sit back and gaze mildly at him!? HELLO, Malfoy to Dumbledore, we already have one monster happy maniac called Hagrid, do we really need to cultivate new breeds? Would I, standing in that creepy tumble down shack, have even bothered to listen to the pitiful rememories of a werewolf and a murderer? Why no, because I am a real wizard and not some half muggle breed with a poor excuse for a haircut. Still, it's too late now.

How the heck did his name get into that Goblet anyway? That's what I'd like to know. I never heard the full story. Father, of course, would know. And I did ask. Once. Still have to marks to show for it, I'll give you a peek some time. Piss easy tasks, what a walk over. It makes you want to howl. I tried to put my name in but it didn't work. Well, I got Pansy to do it, same thing –what? I didn't want to end up looking like Dumbledore's long lost brother. Ha, Pansy did look better though. Shame about Diggory though. Good seeker. Easy to win against.

If I didn't know Potter, like I know Potter, which considering we're enemies, is pretty well, I'd say he killed Diggory. But I know Potter. Besides, that's over now.

I'm just sitting here, thinking, at the end of fifth year. Potter is going down. I'm alone in the Manor. My bed is unmade. Mother visiting father. In Azkaban. Don't tell him but he's an idiot. Firstly, because the prime rule of any game is not to get found out. Secondly, because he was captured by Dumbledore and Potter, which is crushing. Thirdly, because I don't want to be his son anymore. He's a disgrace, an embarrassment and an inconvenience. If it wasn't for him, I might not even be in the defeated position I'm in now. I might be- I could have chosen- anyway. It's all too late now.

It's far too late.


End file.
